


Cages

by Razzaroo



Series: HoB series (working title) [7]
Category: Black Cat
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4218876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razzaroo/pseuds/Razzaroo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He hadn't thought that freedom would taste just as sweet the second time around." The road to freedom is never the one that's easiest. [Set during and after House of Bones]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cages

He can’t move his leg. Train stares down at the lengths of white bandage that cover his injuries and he wants to rip them off and throw them to the ground but he won’t, because he’s done it before and all that happens is a needle in his neck and the bandages being replaced while he’s knocked out.

It’s frustrating to be so powerless.

He rolls onto his side to watch the door. He knows these are Creed’s rooms but he hardly sees Creed himself. He hasn’t seen much of anyone.

“If that’s the way you want to play,” he says, “I can play it. I’ve done the whole solitary confinement thing before.”

He pushes the blankets back and hobbles to the window, every movement laced with pain from his leg, his ribs, and the bruises up his left arm. Set high in the tower, the window is no option for any escapes, even if Train wasn’t half crippled with his leg. Pressing his forehead against the glass, Train can look down into the yard to see the haphazard ring being constructed. Over one of the granite walls, he can see the greenery of Creed’s rose garden and beyond everything else, the blue of the sea.

“You should be in bed,” Creed says from behind him, “You won’t heal.”

“I’m fine,” Train says between his teeth. He hears Creed’s footsteps and he immediately flinched away, turning on the defensive. When he twists round, Creed has backed away, hands clear where Train could see them.

“I won’t touch you,” Creed says, “I haven’t touched you all the time you’ve been here.”

“How do I know that won’t change?” Train says, and he watches Creed with wary eyes, even as pain pulses up his leg. Creed’s eyes gleam.

“I’m happy to just have you here, and know that’s the case.”

Somehow, his answer only increases the uncomfortable crawling beneath Train’s skin.

 

* * *

 

 

Seeing Creed’s soldiers getting utterly destroyed in fights with Kranz has become one of the few satisfactions in Train’s life. Despite all claims of superiority, it’s a rare man who walks away from Kranz; most of them need to be carried, some of them in bags.

He stands on the lowest rail outside the ring, leaning over and away from his guard. They don’t stop him; so long as they can see him, and he’s not trying to escape, they don’t fuss over what he does. He watches as Kranz flicks the blood off his hands. There are crusts of it clotting in his hair and people flinch away when he looks at them.

“And I thought for sure he’d go down this time,” one of his guards mutters, and Train turns with a sly grin.

“You don’t know much about Chronos Numbers,” he says, “Especially Kranz. Be a bit smarter and put money on _him_ , rather than your buddies.”

Someone else drops down to challenge Kranz and Train notices that Creed has paused to watch. Their eyes meet across the space and Creed smiles. Train hops down from the fence and turn round to his guards.

“I’ll bet on Kranz,” he says, “Since you lot are too piss scared of upsetting your buddies.”

“You’ll bet on the Number?” the guard asks, and his tone is disdainful, “You have no money.”

Train shrugs, “Then I’ll just use Creed’s.”

 

* * *

 

 

The castle creaks and groans at night. Train hates to lie awake and hear it, hear every moan and breath of wind, hear every scrape of tree branches against stone. He creeps out of the tower and descends the stairs two at a time, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t be intercepted.

He slips down amongst the rosebushes, crouching down against the earth and beneath the leaves as a torch beam sweeps across the grass in front of him. He pauses, frozen, waiting for the guards to move on. When the sound of boots moves away, he leaves the rose bed, sticking to the shadow of the wall, and made his way to the end of the garden. The sea crashes far down at the base of the cliff and Train can taste the salt on his tongue. He works the stone at the base of the wall free to find the waxed envelope that had been left there. He presses against the tree trunk behind him to give him cover as he tears the envelope open and pulls out the note inside.

‘ _H_

_There are more plans in the works. We need to know the weak spots in the walls. Find them._

_A.’_

Train crumples the paper up and shoves it into the hole to be crushed when he replaces the stone. Atop the wall, there’s a row of granite lumps, like teeth. He scratches his head; if they’re planning to scale the walls, Charden would be able to tell them it’s useless.

He crumples up the envelope and tosses it over the top of the wall. He can picture it plummeting down into the sea, bouncing off of rocks before being swallowed up by the white waves below.

 

* * *

 

 

“You were trying to leave!”

“I was climbing a tree,” Train says between gasps. His ribs ache and his spine feels like someone’s rolled over it with a spiked rod, “Illegal now?”

“You were trying to leave!” Creed snaps. The blade of his sword sinks further into the ground and the edge of it cuts a line on Train’s cheek, “Trying to escape!”

“You can’t prove it,” Train wheezes, shoving Creed’s foot off of his chest. He rolls over and his ribs protest but it’s a relief to be off of his back. “You can’t prove anything.”

“I _know_ you. I knew I should never have given you leave to be on your own.” Creed wrenches the Imagine Blade out of the earth. He clawed one hand through his hair, brandishing the Imagine Blade with the other, “I should cast you down into those cells. I should flay the skin from your back.”

“Because that worked so well on Kranz.” Train stands. The breath was coming back to his lungs, “I’m not scared of losing some skin. There’s nothing you can do to me that scares me.”

Creed goes still. The shaking in his hands stops. Very slowly, he turns and the glint has returned to his eye.

“Nothing I can do to you, perhaps,” he says, “But what about what the Doctor can do to your bioweapon?”

Train pales and he feels cold, “You don’t know where she is.”

“You don’t know what I know.”

Train looks up towards the arcing branches of the tree. They hang up over the wall; Train had been climbing them to see over the wall, looking for weak points that could be exploited. He hadn’t managed to find any before he was shaken down.  Creed arranges his features into a look of unsettling serenity.

“I suppose he’d start with dissection,” he says, as calm and level headed as if he’s discussing the weather, “And if her healing factor gets her through that, maybe testing how two different types of nanomachines react to each other. I can imagine how painful that would be.”

“Right, OK, you’ve made your point,” Train says, “No more climbing trees. I get it.”

Creed looks smug and when he leaves, Train follows. He wonders whether Creed even has an inkling about how much Train lies to him.

 

* * *

 

 

“Will you go back to sweeping, now this is all over?”

Train rolls his shoulders and leans back against the bedpost behind him. He’s staying behind with Rinslet, preferring her company much more than the other Numbers. Eve’s curled up against the headboard, watching them.

“If that’s what the Princess wants to do,” he says. He glances back at her and she smiles, “But first we’ll find out what’s happened with Sven. Then I think we need a holiday. What about you?”

Rinslet shrugs, “Whatever comes my way, I guess. My plans didn’t really get this far, if you can believe it.”

“You could come with us,” Eve says, “If you wanted.”

“Good idea, Princess,” Train says and he flashes Rinslet a grin, “Someone needs to pay for shit.”

“Who said I’d pay for you?”

“We were broke even before Creed happened.” Train shudders, “I don’t even want to see my bank account now. In all seriousness, though, why not? You get a break from Chronos Numbers, we all get away from Creed.”

Eve inches along the bed to stretch out over the covers, resting her chin on her arms. Outside, the clouds are a soft gold, lit up by the sun sinking down below the sea.

“Do you know what happened to Sven?” she asks, looking at Rinslet.

“I know he got a funeral,” Rinslet says, “I don’t know where. I’ll find out for you.”

“Thanks, Rins,” Train says, “I won’t call you a saint but you’re up there.”

“And we’ll go to see him together.”

“Sure; me, you and Rinslet.” Train pauses, “Annette too, if we can find her.”

“She’ll find you,” Rinslet says quickly, “The minute she hears what happened on that island, she’ll track you down.”

“Course she will. I should have known.”

Train falls quiet then, listening to Eve and Rinslet talk instead. He watches as the gold clouds track across the evening sky.

He hadn’t thought that freedom would taste just as sweet the second time around.


End file.
